


X-Men Commentfic

by LMX



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, One Shot, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMX/pseuds/LMX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short bits of fic written for LJ's comment fic community prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heartbeats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Comment fic for theawfuldodger, X-men, Gambit (+ or / any), He doesn't like hospitals. Being stuck in Sinister's lab tends to do that to people, you know?

There are two pairs of hands - one on each shoulder - and another body at his back to stop him dropping out of their grip, arching and rolling away (he'd thought about it). Logan has a fist in the front of his uniform (over his heart) and is all but dragging him forwards. He couldn't escape if he wanted to.

He knows he's babbling, he can't stop, he's not even sure what he's talking about any more, (Dis boy don' like hospitals. Bein' stuck in Mr. Sinister lab... tend t' do dat t' people, y' know?) his head is fuzzy and his eyesight blurry, but he isn't going down now, not yet. He hates hospitals, hates them more than anything else he can think of (more dan gunshot wounds, t'ank y' *very* much, so jus' let dis Cajun be an' he...) but it'd be worse to be unconscious right now.

It's been nearly twenty years since he was last held in a lab (any lab, his lab, always his lab, no matter how long it been), but he still remembers every tiny detail from that huge expanse of a room. It doesn't look much like this little pokey room he's thrust into, suddenly six people around him, pushing the people he *needs* nearby out into the hall and isolating him (treatin' y', moron. Dey jus' tryin' t' help). It doesn't look like a lab, but he can smell that commercial cleaning product, sterile sharp edge, whir of air conditioning and that quiet pained gasping breath (dat's *you*, cher. Jus' you).

The panic is overwhelming, and the quiet buzz of his charge leaks into his fingertips where they're gripping the bars on either side of the bed. He can hear Scott's sharp tone even as Logan slams the door open and shoves half a dozen white coated (dey doctors, y' gotta get dis straight) men out of the way as the metal explodes in light, scorching and scraping at his hands as Logan pulls him up and out of the way. He might have shouted a little at how that pulled at the wound in his chest, but that faded out as his world narrowed to the sound of Logan's heartbeat where his ear was pressed against the other mutant's chest, and then faded to black.

Sinister had never had a heart beat like that.


	2. Foreign Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commentfic for crimson_antics who prompted: X-Men, Wolverine/any, Learning a foreign language

On the rare occasions he was feeling introspective, Logan sometimes thought that Remy's accent was a language unto its self. Tenses turned backwards, letters and sometimes whole words disappeared, objects picked up gender and people lost it just as easily.

The Cajun was proud of his origins. Of the language he'd been raised with, and of the history and locations and peoples it remembered. Each one had changed it and shaped it around their own culture. Amazing, really, that it had survived so long, stayed so rich, in amongst rolling lilting Mississippi and drawling Texas. And on this man, so long away from home.

The cannibalised french was whiskey-slow and its meanings so turned around by distance by the homeland; it was the only thing to have Jean-Paul crying out for him to just 'speak English, for God's sake'. A rare call from the language-proud French Canadian.

And there was a body language to it too, a sway that would look feminine on any other pair of hips, but instead just drew the eye...

Logan smiled and caught hold of those hips, enjoying the surprised murmur, the punctuating swear word. He always had loved learning new languages.


	3. Tricky Little Pick-Pocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment fic for ladyames

Remy doesn't mean to do it. Not really. There's something in his mindset that means he will always reach for pockets as he passes. He doesn't keep the wallets now, he doesn't need them. He lifts them, and then he puts them back. Some might say that's takes more skill than lifting them in the first place, but Remy doesn't even notice it any more. It's useful when they're looking for someone in a crowd, because Remy can check wallets faster than he can check faces, and he can spot a fake ID at a glance.

Logan knows all of this, has known it all for a while, but it doesn't stop him making stupid mistakes from time to time. Like right now: Remy's stood there at the door to the restaurant - they haven't even made it all the way inside - he's got the ring box in his hands and he's staring at it like it might bite him.

Logan never should have put the damn thing in his pocket.

"Cher?" he asks, looking to Logan for an explanation.

Sighing, Logan gets down on one knee.


	4. Finding a Little Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment fic for johnboy91719 who prompted: 'X-Men, Remy/Logan, they have each other's mutant powers, but still keep the same personality they've always had'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda failed at the prompt on account of how I think a lot of their personality is defined by their powers and background. So... FailComment fic.

James Logan was a simple man. The mutant power he wielded allowed him to quarry rock safer than any chemical method, and there was never a blasting accident in his quarry. His wants and needs were simple too, and when he was happy, the workmen were happy. With things the way they were, he was one of the better treated mutants in the states around that time. Still, his skills weren't exactly socially accepted, so he was often lonely.

Remy LeBeau was a reckless man, passionate and raging. If anyone knew that he could heal his wounds supernaturally fast he would surely have been taken advantage of, but he was selfish and self-serving. He never put himself in a position where his mutant power might be revealed. He used the sleight of hand and thievery he had always known to keep his secret concealed.

They met what seemed to both of them an age ago. James had aged a fair bit over those years, and Remy had not. They met more often now than they once had, and if James noticed that Remy strayed from town less often as James became less willing to travel, he didn't mention it.

Their arguments, running late into the night at their local bar, were always the same. James would point out all the good Remy could do with a power like his, who he could have saved and how he could have changed the world - how he still could change the world in all of the lifetimes he had still to live. Remy mused what fun could be had with a power as explosive as Logan's, what women he could have at his feet with such an innate charm and soft amiability. Neither of them can decide if Logan's personality, and the way he makes friends regardless of the situation, is unique to him or an aspect of his mutation. Years ago they reached the decision that it didn't really make any difference, the man was just a friend to all and that's all there was to it.

Neither of them ever spoke of the pain of Remy's healing, how every wound was as painful as it might be for any other man, though shorter lived. They never spoke of the periods of James' history where the power was so out of control that people died, innocent lives cut short. They laughed together as if they had no cares.

They would sleep together later, but there was no rush after all this time. Remy had the time to spare and James didn't like to rush anything.

With so many of the campaigners for mutant rights dead, there wasn't much peace for people like them in the world, but they had found it in each other, and they would cling to that for as long as they could.


End file.
